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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703874">Psychosomalia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalThespian/pseuds/DigitalThespian'>DigitalThespian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Octopath Traveler (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Medicine, Philosophy, Psychology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 04:20:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalThespian/pseuds/DigitalThespian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfyn comes across an illness he's seen many times before; fortunately for everyone, it's easy to treat.</p><p>Cyrus is a silent observer, and learns a thing or two about medicine; but mostly about people.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Psychosomalia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Have a thing that my brain spit out; I'm not dead, I'm still writing, I'm just trying to graduate college at the same time. XD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm tellin ye, I'm in a right state! Me wife don't believe me, but I know me better'n anyone!" The man scowled. "I can't believe me own wife would doubt me like that..!"</p><p>Alfyn nodded sympathetically, laying a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "I'll take a look, don't you worry. And don't be too hard on your wife, now, alright? If she can't tell what's wrong, can you really blame her for wanting to believe the man she loves most is hale and hearty? She's just as scared as you, she wants you to be okay." Alfyn grinned. "And after I'm done, you will be!"</p><p>The man was quiet for just a moment, then sighed slightly, the tension draining from his frame. "You're right, mate. She <em>is</em> a worrier.. I.. suppose I owe her an apology, aye?"</p><p>Alfyn smiled. "It can't hurt. Now; let's see what the situation is.." He examined the man's neck—he had described symptoms of stiffness, and a burning under his jawbone, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong there.</p><p>Maybe an indirect cause..?</p><p>Alfyn continued to tick off every cause he could think of, but to no avail. "Hmm.. could you go over your symptoms again? I'm not finding anything that would cause what I remember you saying you feel, but you know, I've got so much stuff rattling around in here I may have just gone and mixed it up with another patient." He tapped his head with an easy laugh, and the man smiled with him. "Could you tell me when it started, too? That might help me figure what did this to ya, if it ain't a natural thing."</p><p>"Alright.. let's see.. it started when I was travelin' to Victor's Hollow for the tournament.. I wasn't fightin' or anythin' like tha', I was just watchin', but on the way back I tripped and fell in this strange nasty-lookin' plant with these big thorns and curly flowers!"</p><p>Alfyn perked up. "Tell me more about that plant," He pulled out his field notebook.</p><p>"It was a big bastard, waist high on me, I reckon, an' it stuck me somethin' good on my neck and shoulder. Stung like hell, but it went away afore sundown. I didn't think nothin' of it, but once I got home I started to feel those pricks on me skin again, and the burnin' started in me neck and jaw."</p><p>Alfyn nodded. "What color were the flowers, do you remember?"</p><p>"Red. Blood red."</p><p>Alfyn hummed in understanding. "Ah, I see what's going on."</p><p>The man shivered. "I knew that plant was trouble.."</p><p>"Well, I know why no one found anything; it's a rare condition, and there's no way to tell if a body's got it without knowin' what you just told me. Good thing you're so careful!"</p><p>The man smiled hopefully. "So ye can fix me up..?"</p><p>"You bet I can! You'll be feeling right as rain come morning!"</p><p>It was as though the man had been relieved of the weight of the sky. "Oh, thank the gods," He moaned. "I was fearin' I'd up an' croak on me dear Petunia!"</p><p>"Give me just a minute, I'll go prepare what I need. Just sit tight!" Alfyn exited the room, laughing quietly to himself.</p><p>Cyrus tilted his head, raising a brow. He had been silently observing, and true to his word, he still didn't say a thing.</p><p>Alfyn gestured towards him. "What's on your mind?"</p><p>"I believe I recognize the name of that plant, but I was unaware it had any deleterious effects.. your knowledge on flora is quite impressive!"</p><p>Alfyn chuckled. "You're actually right; the thorns are the most dangerous part. It's not poisonous at all." He unpacked a mortar and pestle, taking a few herbs from his bag and grinding them down.</p><p>"Is that.. arrowroot, yellow gentian, and horseradish?" Cyrus was puzzled. "You said it wasn't poisonous, why are you preparing something?"</p><p>"You sure know your stuff!" Alfyn took the powder and packed it into a little wooden cup, putting a lid on it. "As for why, I'll explain after. Can't keep the patient waiting!"</p><p>He returned, and the man perked up. "Is tha' it? What's wrong with me, anyway?"</p><p>"You've got a rare affliction called Psychosomalia," Alfyn began.</p><p>"Psycho?! Am I goin' crazy!?"</p><p>Alfyn shook his head with a laugh. "No, no, 'psycho' just means 'mind'. The reason no one can tell what's the matter is because it's not your body."</p><p>"Are you sayin' I'm sick in the head?" The man said indignantly.</p><p>"You gotta let me finish if you wanna know what I'm saying, you know," Alfyn's tone was jocular, and the man ducked his head sheepishly. "Anyhow, Psychosomalia can be caused by a <em>lot</em> of different things; but fortunately, it's easy to treat. It's a magical ailment, which is why you have to keep doin' what I tell you, ya hear?"</p><p>The man nodded quickly. "I don't want no magic sickness!"</p><p>"First things first; I made you this," He held out the wooden cup. "Just put a pinch of that in your food when you eat till it runs out. You'll feel better almost right away, but it's important to keep doing it to get your body back to normal. The second part is the most important part though, and only you can make it work."</p><p>"Tell me what I need to do!" The man wore an expression of rapt attention.</p><p>Alfyn smiled warmly. "Good man. It's magical, like I said, and magic has a funny way of working sometimes. You have to use that powder like I said, but then you gotta keep the magic from coming back. You gotta say to yourself, 'No way, I'm done with you, ya hear! I'm better now, and I ain't lettin' you ruin my day!'" He chuckled. "You don't gotta say it out loud, and you don't have to say <em>that</em>; what matters is you gotta <em>believe</em> that you beat it. If you let yourself think it's coming back, that's how it gets ya. So if you think you feel it, grit your teeth and raise your head high, and know that <em>you're</em> the one with the power. It can only get you if you let it in, so if you see that bastard coming, you slam the door right in its face, you hear?"</p><p>The man sprang to his feet, determination burning in his eyes. "Right! I promised me Petunia I'd keep her safe, and by the gods I won't let anythin' stop me!"</p><p>"That's the spirit! Now remember, this ain't gonna ward off regular stuff, you might still get the sniffles, or even other serious stuff; but that's different. Long as you know Psychosomalia can't getcha, it can't come back. So if you're believin' with all your heart, and you still feel sick? It's probably somethin' else, and you should take care of it, alright?"</p><p>"Right!" The man smiled. "I can't thank ye enough; I was sure I was done for!"</p><p>"Just doing my job! You take care now, ya hear?"</p><p>"Wait, don't ye want t' be paid?"</p><p>"Nah, you've got a family to feed; and besides, Psychosomalia is only hard to treat if you don't know about it—the powder I gave you is made of real easy-to-find stuff." Alfyn smiled. "Didn't cost me a thing. Go tell your wife you're gonna be just fine."</p><p>"I will!" The man dashed out, and he could be heard yelling excitedly from the other room. "<em>Petunia! Petunia! 'e said I'm goin' to be better by the morrow! An.. I'm sorry for being upset, ye just wanted me t' be alright..</em>"</p><p>Cyrus looked at Alfyn in confusion. "'Psychosomalia'?" Alfyn waved him along, leaving the house. He followed, and when they were a fair distance away, continued his line of inquiry. "Derived from 'psychosomatic'? That's the mind causing physical effects, isn't it? Why give him a treatment, then, if it's just him <em>thinking</em> he's ill?"</p><p>"If a body's feeling scared, and helpless, and confused.. you don't tell 'em they're wrong. They don't wanna hear that, and it won't help 'em feel better. You tell 'em they're not powerless, and that they can <em>win</em>."</p><p>"But why the powder?"</p><p>"Sure, it doesn't do anything on its own, but it makes him feel like he's doing what he needs to do to get better; you recognized what I put in it, you know how strong that stuff's gonna taste. And if medicine tastes strong, that means it's powerful, right?" Alfyn laughed. "A bunch of bullshit, but it's something people <em>understand</em>. He's gonna eat that, and think 'golly, there's no <em>way</em> I'll still be sick after this!' And he's not gonna wanna eat it, probably, but he will anyway, and that's gonna make him feel like he won too. He overcame something, he toed the line and put up with that rotten medicine because he won't let the sickness get him down. If I just said to believe, that sounds like a bunch of too good to be true nonsense, doesn't it?"</p><p>Cyrus nodded slowly. "The medicine wasn't to produce a physiological effect, but a psychological one.. it gives him a tangible foe to defeat."</p><p>"Exactly. The other reason I do that is because it keeps it from happening again; those kinds of people are the type to worry, and every time something odd happens, it'd come back. But now, when he feels a little under the weather, the first thing he's gonna think of isn't 'what if I've come down with some mysterious illness?' It's gonna be," Alfyn pointed dramatically at nothing in particular. "'I know what you are, you sneaky bastard, and I ain't lettin' you get me again!'" He laughed. "It gives 'em something they can face that they <em>know</em>. It means unless they're really sick they'll chalk it up to my boogeyman ailment and feel like they can stop it. And that means they will."</p><p>Cyrus nodded in understand and approval. "I knew you were knowledgeable about your craft, but it would seem there is an art to administering a cure the same as preparing it!"</p><p>Alfyn nodded. "If I can get folk to take preventative measures where I can, it means less people get sick. There's enough nasty stuff out there I won't <em>ever</em> be out of work, and besides; if I could put myself out of work forever, I would, if it meant no one had to watch their loved ones suffer like that."</p><p>"A noble goal indeed, friend."</p>
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